“You nearly settled poor Tommy Page on the guillotine,” he laughed.
“He nearly spoiled everything, the poor coward. He couldn’t stand a little pain.”
“Peculiar to our sex, Isabelle; not Tommy’s fault, strictly speaking.”
“He’ll never get another good part,” she said firmly.
They were just finishing their ice cream, chatting amiably, when Wally came to their table.
“Hello,” he remarked.
Isabelle bowed.
“Hope I don’t interrupt?” he added.
“Not at all. Won’t you sit down?”